


Sea Touched

by Fiachra



Category: Pirates of the Caribbean (Movies)
Genre: Character Study, Destiny, F/M, Fate & Destiny, Gen, Sea-longing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-10
Updated: 2017-06-10
Packaged: 2018-11-12 13:44:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,685
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11163063
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fiachra/pseuds/Fiachra
Summary: The sea claims certain people for her own. This is the story of three of those people.





	Sea Touched

He grew up on the sea’s doorstep and with stories of his father’s travels.

He passed many an hour on the shore, he remembers his father teaching him about the sea while he excitedly examined every creature or bit of flotsam he could find.

After his father went to sea for that last time he continued. He learnt the name of every bird that split its time between sea and sky. He sat for hours just watching the sea change colour, from steel grey to jade green to deepest blue and inky black. He learnt that she had moods, that she was alive and could go from gently slumbering to raging in an afternoon, and that she must always be respected.

One of Will’s earliest memories of his father was being taught to swim in summer’s chilly waters, and as he got older he taught himself to hold his breath for longer and longer, to catch but a tiny glimpse of the world beneath the surface.

  


He came to the water’s edge when his mother was trapped in fever dreams and no longer aware of his presence. He spoke to the sea at these times, having no one else to go to, and somehow he knew the sea was listening. When she finally succumbed, he came to the spot he thought of as his and screamed, his voice rising with that of the gulls. The sea, as if in sympathy, writhed under an iron sky, and kicked up drops of salty spray to mix with that on his cheeks.

  


Destiny seemed to catch him and whisk him away, as he found himself on a ship bound for the lands across the sea. He unconsciously rubbed the medallion around his neck, and thought of what he’d say to his father when he found him. His quest was serious, but he found himself enjoying the journey.

Then he was surrounded by fire and water, until a wooden board bumped into him, as if sent by a friend. This piece of wreckage felt safe, as if the sea herself was watching out for him.

  


During his breaks from the sweltering heat of the forge, he slipped away to the coast. The sea here was warmer than that in England, with more vibrant colours and different creatures hiding below the waves, but it still felt the same. He continued his habit of talking to it.

  


Then came one Captain Jack Sparrow, and both he and Elizabeth were swept along in his wake. Will tried to fight what Jack had called his “pirate blood”, but it was almost impossible. He slotted into life on board naturally. His father’s choices and words half remembered from childhood started to make more sense to him. _“The sea can be like a hook son,”_ he’d said so long ago, _“and when she tugs you have to go where she wills you.”_

  


Elizabeth seemed born for this life, and Will didn’t think he had ever seen her look so beautiful as when she stood at the ship's railing, the sun turning her hair to spun gold and the breeze making it dance around her face. On the rare occasions they had nothing to do, they sat together looking out at the open water. They sat in silence mostly, but a good one.

  


The sea in the Locker was still the same, he was sure, but also mysterious and unknown. It wasn’t as changeable, nor did it seem quite as alive. He greatly appreciated their trips to the surface, even if it were to attend an unfortunate vessel who had been a victim of the sea’s power. Here, even in towering waves and howling winds, the sea felt more welcoming.

He missed the seabirds, he confided in his father one day, and soon afterwards a single albatross soared with them for a while before going on its way. Will had smiled and whispered his thanks, and could have sworn he heard laughter in the swell.

  


oOo

  


She didn’t grow up within sight of the sea, yet its song settled itself into her heart and mind anyway. She studied it on paper and charts, the history and ways of those who travelled on its surface, and their lore. She listened with great interest when talk of nautical affairs same up in the grown up’s talks, and stubbornly continued with her questions even if she received laughter at first.

She traced the elegantly written names on one of her father’s maps, each one exotic and exciting on her tongue, Atlantic, Pacific, Indian. She vowed she would travel them all one day.

She could hardly contain her excitement on being told of her new home across the Atlantic Ocean. On their way to the docks she strained to get her first look at a proper ship. And oh how magnificent it was! With her tall masts and sails that seemed large enough to hold all the winds of the world. And what a feeling once they were underway! This, Elizabeth thought, is living.

  


It was Will, the boy from the sea, who taught her to swim before they grew old enough that such meetings would have been the height of scandal. Living so near to it only seemed to aggravate her desire rather than soothe it. It called to her, teasing and weaving its way into her dreams. She wanted to be out there, wherever there was, and she wanted it _now_. It was an itch, or a thirst that that only salt water could slake, and she sometimes wondered if it would ever be sated.

  


The pirate’s life did a pretty good job of it. She never felt more alive as she did when she strode the deck, feeling as if the very planks beneath her were thrumming to the beat of her heart. This was what she was put on this earth to do. She was a storm, while Will was a calm ocean hiding profound danger underneath. With him at her side, she felt unstoppable, as untouchable as the sea itself.

  


The irony of the sea bringing Will into her life and snatching him away from it was never lost on her.

  


It came as no surprise that she felt closest to him at sea. When she was landbound, and particularly if his absence was too much to bear in the quiet hours of the night, she slipped down to the shore and stood in the water until dry land felt foreign to her feet and the breeze seemed uncomfortably cold and dry.

Sometimes she screamed, other times she cried, and sometimes said nothing at all. She spoke to Will as if he was there, and she imagined the sea carrying her love to him over the waters she could not cross.

Sometimes she fancied she could feel his love for her being carried back to her on the incoming tide.

  


oOo

  


She would have laughed if she hadn’t been in so much pain. Of course their son would choose to be born at sea and during a squall no less.

She named him Henry, a name she and Will had both liked in talks of this eventuality so long ago in a more innocent past.

  


A pod of dolphins played around the ship when she brought him on deck for the first time. A good omen, the crew all agreed. Henry has laughed for the first time, peals of joy rising and falling like the waves and stretched out his hands towards the shining animals. The accompanying wiggle was strong enough that Elizabeth feared for a moment that he would join them.

  


He cried when she brought him ashore. Eventually he settled, but only after she stood at the open sea-facing window so he could hear the gentle sighing of the ocean’s breath. This trick would be used many, many times in the years to come.

He swam almost before he could walk, and begged her for pirate stories and sea legends as often as he could. When he was old enough to dabble in the nautical arts she could tell he’d be a natural sailor. But he’d also inherited his father’s predilection for watching the sea, sometimes for hours. Several times she found him asleep, head resting on the windowsill. He said he was watching, hoping to catch a glimpse of the one ship he longed to see.

  


“A true child of the sea,” Calypso, in the form of Tia Dalma, stood in the surf, in a spot that Elizabeth knew to be empty mere moments before. Elizabeth glanced down the beach towards said child, who was utterly engrossed in playing in the shallows, unaware of the newcomer.

“Yes, he is.” Elizabeth agreed.

Calypso smiled knowingly, in a way that made Elizabeth a little uneasy. “The child of the captain of the Flying Dutchman and the Pirate King, a woman who’s hunger for the sea can never be satisfied. He can feel the call too, and he will fulfil his own destiny.”

Elizabeth whirled, as if to make sure the sea hadn’t taken him while her back was turned, but no, he was still studying shells with fierce concentration.  
When she turned back to Calypso she was no longer there.

  


oOo

  


Henry stood in ankle deep water, feeling the sea swirl and pull at him. The full moon silvered the sea, and he imagined he could hear a voice in the crash and hiss of the waves, the same voice who enticed him from his room and down to the water’s edge.  


He had promised Mother he wouldn’t keep doing this, but he was now sixteen, more than capable of looking after himself. Besides, he thought as he waded deeper, letting his fingertips drag across the surface, he knew he was safe. He knew that the sea wouldn’t hurt him, he knew it as intuitively as he knew how to breathe.

He floated, letting the waves rock him gently as he gazed at the stars overhead. _“The sea cares for its own,”_ the waves seemed to say, and he knew that they were right.

**Author's Note:**

> You can come say hi on Tumblr: @consultingzoologist


End file.
